


A Good Night

by gracerene



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Bisexual Male Character, Community: hp_goldenage, Cross-Generation Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Living Together, M/M, Past Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Potions Masters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-03-21 21:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracerene/pseuds/gracerene
Summary: The last thing Draco expected at fifty was for a childhood crush to reappear with a newfound ferocity.





	A Good Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humanveil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/gifts).



> Thanks to my betas for all their help and to the mods for running this awesome fest!

It started with a brush of fingers.

It was an innocent enough gesture, perfectly natural that their fingertips might graze against one another as Draco passed Severus the bottle of Lacewing Flies, but something about the contact sent Draco's heart skittering. Draco's cheeks began to heat, and not just from the steaming cauldrons perfuming the back of his apothecary. Heart racing, he pretended he had _very important business_ to attend to in his office and made a hasty retreat, hoping Severus wouldn't notice his odd behaviour. He thought he might be in luck. Severus was remarkably observant _except_ when he was completely absorbed in potion making.

It wasn't until Draco was safely ensconced in his tiny office, the door firmly shut between his back and the brewing room, that Draco allowed himself a moment to quietly panic. Because the truth of the matter was, that brush of fingers just now wasn't really the start of anything, merely a continuation of a something Draco thought he was well and truly over. He was fifty years old now, for goodness sake! The last thing he needed was for his ill-advised childhood crush to come racing back with such ferocity. He'd just got Severus back into his life, was just beginning to realise how much his friendship and companionship meant to him. It would be devastating to lose Severus over something as silly as unrequited feelings, especially at his age.

Draco had always had a bit of a thing for his mysterious and talented potions professor back at Hogwarts. It had been gloriously simple for a short period of time, but of course, it hadn't stayed that way for long. There'd been Draco's task and Severus's meddling, the war and Draco's confusing, conflicted thoughts about Voldemort's plans. And then the discovery that Severus had actually been a double agent all along, followed swiftly by the news of his untimely death at the hands of Voldemort and his horrifying pet snake. News was scarce in the Ministry cells awaiting trial, so by the time he'd learned that Severus had lived after all, it was to hear in the same breath that he'd promptly fucked off to some remote village in China in the wake of his miraculous recovery. He apparently planned to live out the rest of his days there, free from the judgement of the British wizarding world.

Draco had been filled with so many emotions, he was frankly astonished he hadn't passed out right there in the Ministry Atrium. There'd been relief and joy, of course, that Severus was still alive, but on its heels had been the anger and fury, the feelings of hurt and betrayal and abandonment that had scorched Draco down to his core. It had taken him years to get over it, for the sting to fade and acceptance and understanding to settle in its place. In the meantime, Draco had done his best to banish Severus from his mind as he tried to find his place in the post-Voldemort world, to restore the Malfoy name and to find happiness, if he could.

Draco thought he'd done pretty well for himself, all things considered. After the war, he opened a small Apothecary, and slowly but surely, it had developed into a successful and well-respected establishment. The pre-made potions side of his business was just as bustling as the side that sold raw ingredients, and Draco was proud of his success, even if managing a shop wasn't quite as aristocratic as his parents would have liked. 

Personally, he'd also fared better than he ever imagined he would. He’d fallen in love with a wonderful woman who'd given him the most amazing son anybody could ask for. Scorpius was still the light of Draco's life, and though the pain of Astoria's passing would never disappear entirely, the years had dulled it into something familiar and almost comforting. Thankfully he had his shop to keep his hands and mind busy.

Opening the shop all those years ago was actually what gave Draco the excuse he needed to finally reconcile with Severus; as the most talented potioneer Draco knew, Severus was in a prime position to offer advice. Draco had written him a letter, half expecting never to get a response, but to his surprise, his owl had come swooping back with a dry, terse reply not three days later. The sight of the familiar handwriting and the unsentimental words that were so clearly _Severus_ had nearly brought Draco to tears—and had quite frightened Astoria in the process, who wasn't used to seeing him in such a state and was sure somebody had just died. Nonetheless, they'd started up a correspondence of sorts, one that had been a constant in Draco's life for nearly thirty years. He'd been there through Scorpius's birth, through Astoria's death, for every up and down life had thrown Draco's way since he'd come into adulthood. 

And now he was here, and Draco was slowly losing his mind.

Despite their frequent contact, Draco hadn't actually _seen_ Severus since the war. He'd thought about it, of course, thought about inviting him to stay at the Manor for a few weeks, or mentioning the possibility of visiting him in China. Somehow, though, the words never seemed to come out, not, at least, until several months ago. That was when the Potions Master that worked in Draco's shop for over ten years had decided to retire to Bermuda with two weeks notice and left Draco unexpectedly in the lurch. There weren't exactly an abundance of Potions Masters out and about, and it would take far longer than two weeks to recruit one to work for Draco's shop. Draco himself had been working on his Masters for years now, but between raising a child, dealing with the death of his wife, and managing his shop, he'd never managed to actually complete it. He was certified to make a lot of the basic potions, and he certainly had the knowledge to make everything his store sold, but legally, there were a number of advanced potions he wouldn't be able to sell unless they were crafted by a certified Potions Master. Panicked, Draco had turned to the only available Potions Master he was in regular correspondence with.

He'd regretted the letter before his owl was even out of sight, but she was too far away to call back. Draco lived with his nerves for nearly a week, terrified that he'd overstepped his bounds, that he'd made Severus uncomfortable with his request and that he'd ruined one of the few things in his life these days that kept him sane. Life had been...lonely since Astoria's death, especially once Scorpius had left Hogwarts and moved in with Potter's boy, Albus. Albus _Severus_ , a name that never failed to make Draco snort with amusement as he remembered Severus's horrified tirade in one of their letters. But still, with his parents living in France and his only son busy living his life, Draco could admit that sometimes his life seemed a little empty. Sure, he had his friends, but they'd drifted apart over the years. Whenever they did meet up, it was easy to fall back into their friendship, picking back up where they left off, but gone were the days of dinner parties every other weekend, Friday night drinks, and boozy Sunday brunches while their children played on the back lawn. It had been hard, after Astoria died, to be around all his happily coupled-up friends, wishing for nothing more than for his wife to be at his side once more. He knew he'd become a bit of a recluse in the aftermath, that he'd pushed away his friends in his grief, but something in him had changed, and though he loved Pansy and Greg and Blaise and Daphne just as much as ever, he didn't know how to overcome the distance between them, wasn't sure if he even _could_. Severus, though, was different. Maybe because he had no expectations of Draco, or because they didn't meet in person, or maybe because he was a bit of a miserable bastard just like Draco, but their exchanged letters meant more to Draco than he could express. It was proof that he wasn't _entirely_ alone, that he was still capable of human connection and conversation, if only just. 

So there Draco had been, terrified that he'd ruined one of the few bright spot in his uneventful life, when Bipsy, one of the last remaining Manor house elves, popped into his study to announce he had a mysterious visitor who refused to give their name. Draco had almost declined to see them—the nerve, showing up uninvited and unannounced!—but his curiosity had been piqued; the Manor rarely had visitors, and even fewer that weren't expected beforehand. 

Draco had come down the stairs, and nearly brained himself on the landing as his eyes struggled to process the man standing by the front door. His cheeks flushed as he stumbled, just catching himself on the railing as he made his way to the bottom. Familiar eyes glinted in amusement, thin lips pulled up in the barest trace of a smile.

"Another stunning example of that characteristic Malfoy grace Lucius was always going on about," the man said softly. His voice was just as low and rich as Draco remembered, though there was a sort of rasping, growling undercurrent that gave the words a spine-shivery edge. Draco's eyes lingered on the man's neck, where his robes opened up to reveal a hint of his throat, the skin puckered and scarred. _Nagini_.

"Severus," Draco breathed, unable to do much more than stand there in shock and awe. His eyes danced over Severus, cataloguing all the differences thirty plus years had made. His hair was still dark, a little longer than shoulder-length, with threads of silver running through the pitch-black strands. Those dark eyes were as sharp as ever beneath prominent brows, and the lines of his face were achingly familiar, though there were new crinkles around his eyes and mouth. He was just as tall as Draco remembered, still slim and imposing in black, though there was something...not _soft_ exactly, but gentled, about his bearing, as if age had worn away some of his sharp edges.

"Observant as ever, Draco."

Draco blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought that would be obvious. You requested my assistance, and here I am. You'll hardly find a more qualified Potions Master."

Draco blinked again, even as a persistent warmth began to spread through his body, heating him from the inside out. "Oh. Yes. I—I wasn't sure if you'd come. It's been...well, it's been a while since you've been back in England."

Severus's face was unreadable as he replied, "I thought it was time."

Draco nodded numbly. "All right, then. Have you—that is, will you—what I mean to say is—" He broke off, looking fixedly at a point over Severus's shoulder as he took a steadying breath. "If you've not yet made alternative arrangements, I would be happy to have you stay here in the Manor with me. I have quite a bit of space, as you can see, and though I primarily utilise the West wing, I'd be happy to open up one of the other wings if you'd prefer a bit more privacy."

Severus stared at him for a long, horrifyingly tense moment before inclining his head. "That's a very gracious offer. As you said, it's been a long time since I was last in England, and I think staying here will suit me fine. I won't be needing an entirely separate wing, if you don't mind the intrusion; my quarters have always been rather modest."

Draco felt inexplicably pleased at the request. It had been so long since he'd last seen Severus in the flesh, and now that he had, the thought of him hiding in an entirely different wing of the Manor had been surprisingly unpleasant. "Not at all. A single wing should be plenty of space for us both."

And it had been. Severus was just a churlish and sharp as ever, but Draco found it was easy to see beyond his prickly exterior to the heart beneath. Draco had been a bit concerned that he wouldn't know how to live with somebody again, that he'd miss the staid solo routines that he'd followed for years, but he was pleased to discover that he found the change of pace more than welcome. Gone were the long, lonely nights eating dinner by himself at a too-long dining table. Instead, his evenings were filled with a warm, quiet companionship, conversations spanning three decades of life exchanged by a cosy fire. Despite their correspondence over the years, Severus had never been particularly loquacious, and Draco had moderated himself in response. Which meant there was more than enough material for them to cover, and though reluctant at first, Severus seemed surprisingly willing—eager, even—to share.

It didn't take long for Draco to realise that spending so much time with Severus had rekindled some long-dormant feelings, but he hadn't paid them much mind. He figured the feelings would fade, eventually, letting him fully enjoy Severus's companionship in peace. Unfortunately, that did not appear to be the case. If anything, they only grew stronger every day, until just the faintest brush of Severus's fingertips against Draco's own was enough to send his stomach somersaulting. He leaned back against the door of his office where he was still hiding, feeling giddy and breathless, his cheeks hot and his mind spinning. This was so much more than just an innocent crush. He cared deeply for Severus, wanted to spend his days and nights with him, wanted to hear his acerbic commentary on the idiocies of the average wizard, wanted to run his hands beneath the pitch black of Severus's robes. It had been years and years since he last felt this particularly devastating kind of obsession, not since the early days of his marriage, when his and Astoria's love had run hot and passionate as they discovered one another, until it gentled into something warm and strong that could stand the test of time. 

_Fuck_ , Draco thought as he closed his eyes and only just managed to hold himself back from banging his head against the door. _I'm in love with Severus._

Even now, something inside Draco yearned for Severus, whispering that he was just on the other side of this door, telling him how silly it was for them to be apart. It was childish and ridiculous. Feelings like this should be reserved for teenagers and newlyweds, not men in their fifties. Severus had never given Draco even the slightest of indication that he might be interested in him as more than a friend, and the last thing he wanted to do was frighten the man back to China. 

He'd just have to get over it, was all. Draco managed it once, he could certainly do it again. Sure, his feelings were a lot more significant now than they had been thirty years ago, and yes, it had been easier to get past his feelings back then, when Severus was halfway around the world and Draco was still smarting over Severus's role in the war, but still. Draco had age and wisdom and experience under his belt now. Surely that would help?

…

It didn't seem to help.

He accompanied Severus home that night, same as usual, his body singing at their close proximity. After dinner, Severus offered to help tutor him for the next portion of his Potions Mastery, and Draco spent the evening doing his best to focus on potions theory when all his eyes wanted to do was linger on the curve of Severus's lips. The rest of the week passed much the same way, with Draco retiring to his quarters each night and wanking himself raw to the memory of Severus's voice and the sight of his long, slim fingers wrapped lovingly around a stirring rod as he brewed. Draco was fairly certain he hadn't wanked so much since he was fifteen, back when a stiff breeze would be enough to set him off, and frankly, he was a little impressed with himself. Since Astoria's death, his masturbatory habits had grown rather sparse and perfunctory, and he hadn't even realised how unsatisfying they had been until Severus took over his mind and sent his libido into overdrive.

It was maddening, infuriating, but Draco managed to convince himself he was fine with the way things were. He forced himself not to analyse the warmth in Severus's voice when they spoke late into the evening, didn't let himself wonder if Severus's gaze lingered just a little too long on Draco's form. That way lay madness, and Draco had surely grown out of such childish fancies. Unfortunately, as determined as he was to ignore his untimely feelings until they went away, it seemed the matter was easier said than done.

It all came to a head the night that Draco heard back from the Potions Mastery review board, letting him know he passed his most recent exam. It meant that he was only three more modules away from completing the program, something he'd been working towards off and on for the better part of thirty years. He knew Severus being back was the reason he'd made so much progress—ostensibly because he'd be foolish not to take advantage of his expertise, but really just because Draco hadn't been able to pass up such a legitimate excuse to spend more time in his presence. It was obvious even Severus was pleased with Draco's news in the quirked upturn of his lip, and Draco, feeling happy and a bit reckless, suggested they end their evening with something a bit stronger than the sherry they usually favoured.

Draco couldn't remember the last time he'd drunk more than a glass of anything, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that two glasses of Firewhisky were enough to practically do him in. He felt relaxed and energetic, the urge to chatter on too strong to ignore. Severus seemed quietly amused and content enough to sip through his first glass while Draco prattled on about Scorpius and potions and the Ministry. It was just so damn comfortable, which is probably why the words slipped out in the first place, completely beyond Draco's control.

"I used to fancy you, you know. Back at Hogwarts." Severus's glass paused halfway to his mouth, and his brows rose in evident surprise. Draco's cheeks burned, but he seemed unable to stop the torrent of words sliding out of his mouth. "I think you're actually the reason I realised I liked men as well as women in the first place." Severus stared at him, his gaze piercing, assessing, and Draco squirmed, feeling self-conscious at Severus's silence. "Well," he challenged, "Are you surprised?"

Severus was quiet a moment more, before finally speaking, his voice a low, pleasing rasp. "I'm hardly surprised by your inclinations, but I must admit I was not aware of your affections for me. I rather thought it was Potter who had captured your eye."

Draco snorted. " _Hardly_. Though I do like dark-haired men, I apparently prefer them older." His gaze caught on Severus's and there was something loaded in that moment that sent heat shooting down to Draco's toes. His mouth was open before his brain even registered he was continuing to speak. "It doesn't appear I've grown out of that."

There, it was out in the world, plain as day. No way would Severus be able to misunderstand what Draco had just confessed. Most of Draco wanted to run away and bury his flaming face beneath his bedsheets, but he wasn't a schoolboy anymore, and he was strong enough to face this conversation head on. He stared at Severus, watching as a myriad of emotions flickered across his face, too quickly for Draco to read them. When Severus spoke, it was hesitant, but not dismissive.

"Draco...what could you possibly want with a bitter old man like me?"

Draco snorted, smiling when Severus looked at him in mild alarm. "In case it's escaped your notice, Severus, I'm a bitter old man now, too. I'm not some teenager with stars in his eyes, and you're not my Hogwarts professor. We're both old, too old to deny ourselves happiness where we can get it. Haven't we suffered enough?"

Severus frowned, indecision warring in his eyes, and Draco pressed on. "If you don't want me, don't want what I'm offering, then that's another matter entirely. I've been happier these past few months with you than I have been in a very long time. I'm content with what we have. But if you're holding back out of some misplaced sense of propriety, then don't." He paused and looked straight into Severus's eyes, letting some of the desire coursing through him shine through. "I'm an adult, Severus. Treat me like one."

Draco wasn't sure who moved first, but suddenly he was on the edge of his seat, his head tilted back as Severus's hand slid through his hair and Severus's mouth took his own in a devastating kiss.

Draco's insides exploded in shivery delight as Severus's lips slid over his own, thin and sure and so much softer than Draco had imagined in his nightly fantasies. They kissed until Draco's mouth tingled and his cheeks were hot, and when Severus finally pulled away, Draco chased his lips, not wanting it to end. When Draco looked at him, his eyes were a dark, fathomless black, but there was a warmth there, too. 

"This will change things," Severus murmured, finally. "Are you sure?"

Draco barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "Of course I'm sure."

"Always so impudent." Severus's lips twitched into a wry smile. "Well, if you're sure, perhaps we should move this to the bedroom."

Draco nodded eagerly, brushing a soft kiss against Severus's lips as he stood. He hesitated a moment as they left the study, wondering whose room they should use, before heading decisively towards his own. He'd been the only occupant of his bedroom for so very long, and he wanted to share it with Severus now. Severus followed without a word, his hand ghosting across Draco's hip, his entire body an unmistakable presence along his back.

Draco's nerves grew as they neared his room, panic beginning to set in that perhaps Severus had changed his mind already, that this was all some kind of dream. Thankfully, Severus didn't share his hesitation, because the second the door was closed, Draco was in Severus's arms as Severus's mouth descended to devour his own. Draco gasped and let Severus's tongue in, his entire body burning with need and desire. Had it always felt like this? Salazar, it had been so damn long since Draco had felt such want, and all he felt like doing was pressing against Severus, skin on skin. His hands slid to the front of Severus's robes, somehow managing to undo the buttons despite his shaking fingers. He was so consumed with his mission to strip Severus that he barely registered Severus doing the same, not until strong, sure fingers were sliding across his breastbone and up his shoulders, easing the thick material of his robes off his body and leaving him naked. 

Severus pulled away, giving Draco a clear once-over, his gaze so appreciative that Draco didn't have it in him to feel self-conscious about his aging body. Severus dragged his fingertips contemplatively across Draco's chest, and it took Draco a moment to realise what he was feeling for.

"The last of Potter's marks faded a long time ago. You healed me well."

"Of course I did." He shook his head. "Foolish boys."

Draco didn't want to go down that path, not right now, not when he had a partially undressed Severus right in front of him. He slid his hand down Severus's bared chest to cup the growing bulge distending his black pants. "Not a boy anymore, Severus."

Severus let out a shuddering sigh. "No, I suppose not."

Draco leaned in for another kiss, this one slower than before. He poured all his longing into it, all his desire, and it didn't take long for things to turn slick and filthy. Severus's hand gripped his bare arse to tug him in, their hardening cocks grinding together.

"Bed," Draco managed to gasp between kisses. Severus seemed all too eager to comply. The next thing he knew, Draco was on his back on the middle of the bed and Severus was stripping off the last of his clothing. His eyes were hot upon Draco's skin, burning him from the inside out, before he climbed onto the bed, settling between Draco's spread legs.

"What do you want?" Severus asked, his fingertips dancing along the inside of Draco's thighs.

" _That_. Everything. Though for now, maybe just…" He reached up and tugged Severus down, until his body was heavy and hard upon his own. _This_ was what he wanted right now. Simple and uncomplicated, their skin touching everywhere it could, proving to Draco that this moment was real, that they were really here, together.

He leaned up and kissed Severus again while his hands mapped the plains of his back. Severus wasn't a particularly broad man, but he was lean and strong, and though his skin lacked some the elasticity of youth, Draco wasn't sure he'd ever been so turned on in his life. 

Above him, Severus began to move, grinding his hips down against Draco so their cocks would slide together in glorious rhythm. A small stutter of movement, and suddenly their pricks were slick with lube. Draco felt a flare of heat run through him at the impressive display—not many wizards could perform a spell wandlessly, silently, and while very much occupied. But Severus never had been like other wizards.

Draco groaned and arched up against Severus's body, matching the ebb and flow of Severus's thrusts. The air grew heavy and thick around them, hot with sweat and lust and panting breaths. Draco felt like he was being devoured by Severus, consumed by his lips and his skin and the intensity with which he all but fucked Draco into the mattress. Draco could only imagine how much more intense it would be when Severus actually got inside him, and though he wanted that badly, he was glad they decided to go with something simpler for this first time. Already, he could feel the first stirrings of his orgasm tingling through his groin, fifty years of built-up stamina somehow gone the second Severus's lips had touched his own.

The room pulsed and throbbed in time with his frantic heartbeat, and everything was reduced to the feeling of Severus, hard and heavy above him. Draco wasn't sure how long they moved together with such glorious intent, the build of his orgasm slow and steady and unbearably sweet as it swelled inside him. When he came, it was like a dam had burst, his orgasm leaving him in a dizzying rush as he added to the lube-slick mess between them. He gasped, and Severus groaned, and suddenly Severus began moving with frantic purpose, clearly chasing his own release. Draco let him use his body, squeezing Severus's arse and urging him on as their tongues slid together, wet and hot.

Severus's entire body sagged as he came, as if all his energy exited with his release. Draco didn't mind. He found the weight of Severus comforting, and he indulged himself by running his fingers through the now-sweaty strands of Severus's hair as their kissing slowed and gentled. Draco didn't even have a chance to lament the sticky mess before a sudden tingling swept over his groin and stomach, leaving him perfectly clean.

"Show off," Draco murmured as Severus rolled over onto his side. He caught the edge of Severus's smile as he moved.

"It's just a Cleaning Spell. Any Hogwarts seventh year should be able to do the same."

Draco rolled his eyes at the ridiculous claim. "I must have had some shoddy professors, then."

"Impudent boy," Severus sighed.

Draco rolled to face him, propping himself up on his elbow so he could look Severus in the eye. "Not such a boy anymore, remember?"

Severus's eyes seemed to glow, warming Draco up from the inside out. "Yes, I think we've covered that quite thoroughly."

"Really? Seems to me we could be a lot more...thorough. If you're up for it."

Severus's eyes widened. "Not tonight, surely."

Draco laughed. "No, definitely not tonight." He bit his lip, feeling a rush of nerves. "But later, yes?" He didn't want this to be a one-time thing, didn't want it to be something Severus regretted.

Severus's hand came up to trace the edges of Draco's face, his fingertips sliding over his brow and cheek, lingering on the bow of his lips. Draco's heart skipped a beat.

"Yes, Draco. Later."

Draco couldn't help but grin. "Will you stay here tonight? I'd like you to, but you don't have to if you'd prefer to go back to your rooms."

Severus paused to consider. "I'd be amenable to sleeping here. Though I'm not overly fond of cuddling."

Draco suppressed a snort. "That's fine." He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Severus's lips feeling giddy and dreamy. It was like being a child again, the bloom of new love filling his chest, the excitement of discovery and knowing that the person you liked cared for you too. He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn't seem to stop himself from smiling, a bubbly joy effervescing in his chest.

"Well, goodnight then, Severus."

He forced himself back to his side of the bed, lying back and grinning up at the ceiling as he listened to Severus settling in beside him.

"Goodnight, Draco," Severus murmured, his fingertips finding Draco's under the covers and grazing gently across the back of his hand. 

_Yes_ , Draco thought, _a good night indeed_.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a part of an anonymous fest and the creator will be revealed no later than March 30. Please comment here or at [our community on Dreamwidth.](https://hp-goldenage.dreamwidth.org/59175.html) Thanks! ♥


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